


Mistakes Were Made: The Tale of the Shipwrecked Angel

by eag



Series: Mistakes Were Made [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Ancient Egypt, Ancient History, Complicated Relationships, Crowley's struggles with identity, Falling In Love, Feels, Food, Friendship, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Good Omens and The Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor, Implied/Referenced Abusive Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Island Date Night, Love, Mythology - Freeform, Name Changes, Nonbinary Character, Other, Slow Burn, The slowest burn in history, Unrequited Love, a conversation about The Fall, bridal carry?!, fingers totally touched, graphic heterodoxy and heresy, intense hand holding, tropical island date night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-02 20:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eag/pseuds/eag
Summary: Based on the Middle Kingdom story,The Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor.1990 B.C.  Not exactly shipwrecked, Aziraphale finds himself not exactly stranded on a mysterious island with a giant serpent.Of course, mistakes were made...





	1. A Mysterious Serpent

**The Land of Punt, 1990 B.C.**

Panting, the sailor flopped onto the island. Someone on the broad deck of the ship hurled invective in a loud brash voice as it passed by; someone else hurled some old crockery that barely missed him, shattering on the shore.

“Bother,” the sailor said, as he dragged himself onto the sandy beach, rolling off the waters of the Nile. Dusting himself off, he stood to watch the great ship disappear off into the distant horizon, heading north back to the lands of the sedge and bee. “I knew I should have gone as a woman; then there wouldn’t be all this trouble with the right placement and number of nipples.”

It should have been easy enough to walk off the island, but a gale had blown in unexpectedly, and rain lashed fiercely down on the dense tropical trees. At least it was warm, Aziraphale thought, as she waited patiently in the shelter of the woods.

Three days later and the weather was still terrible. Aziraphale grew tired of waiting and watching the rain. Especially she grew tired of wondering where all the little lizards and frogs were going about their daily business, and where all the insects that should have been shivering under their shelters of quivering leaves had run off to; the island was strangely empty of anything other than plants. 

But mostly, Aziraphale was getting hungry.

Finding some figs on a nearby tree, she picked several perfectly ripe ones and brought them back to her shelter, carrying them in the hem of her long dress. She took out her stone knife from where it was strapped to her thigh under her dress and began to fashion a fire drill, in the way that the humans did nowadays, shaping tools for herself to start a fire. With much coaxing and grumbling, the fire eventually cooperated and with some freshly sharpened sticks, she roasted figs over the fire, sending up a heavenly scent. 

While she waited for the roasted figs, she peeled and ate some fresh ones, savoring the crisp bite of their little seeds, the sweetness of the tender flesh, and wished that there was some goat cheese to go with this, and maybe a nice jug of beer with a long straw to sip from, and definitely some fresh-baked bread and butter, and wouldn’t some fried fish be nice too...

Thunder? Aziraphale looked up; she hadn’t seen lightning. 

“Probably just the sound a wave breaking, can you even believe it? Eight cubit waves; this must be one for the records. Perhaps it’s because we’re near the confluence of the Blue and White Niles. Now let’s see if those figs are done…oh not quite.”

But then the ground shook, and Aziraphale jumped up to her feet as the deep growl of thunder grew ever closer, ever louder.

Something was coming fast through the trees; something big. Branches were snapping, the deep forest trembled, leaves were shaking, and the rolling ground quaked. Aziraphale ducked behind a big tree, hoping that whatever it was would pass her by.

Of course it didn’t.

“Oh dear.” 

A great serpent appeared out of the darkness of the woods, slithering between the trees and cracking limbs as it went. For a brief instant Aziraphale could feel her heart race in anticipation, her expression growing brighter until it got closer and she realized just how massive this serpent was. It dwarfed Crawley by cubits, and even in the deep shadows of the forest its scales shimmered gold as though it had been gilded. Suddenly it stopped, and everything fell into silence. The snake’s head lifted, its tongue flickering out as it tasted the air, looking for something. 

Or someone.

Aziraphale felt her heart pounding and her breath coming fast as the remnant hints of this corporated body’s animal nature briefly overwhelmed the celestial being that had been poured into it. Which other demons were serpents? There were so many, she didn’t know even half of them, but the first two that came to mind were Mephistopheles and Asmodeus, and she knew that Mephistopheles was not a blond. 

But Asmodeus was.

Miraculously, a dark wig appeared in her hands, and she quickly covered up short electrum-colored curls, settling the heavy black hair over her shoulders. Slipping off her golden ring and tucking it into a hidden pocket, she closed her eyes tight. I’m just an ordinary Egyptian, she thought to herself, nothing unusual at all, please don’t notice anything unusual about me and certainly nothing angelic...

The serpent’s tongue flickered out, tasting the air. For a moment it paused as if confused, but then it moved fast, so fast that Aziraphale felt herself with her back to the rough bark of the tree trunk as the serpent’s massive head was before her, its coils closing around her, crushing out the fire, destroying her makeshift camp.

Aziraphale squeaked in fright.

_Who brought you?_

“W-what? I was just-”

_I sssaid, who brought you?_

“Well, that’s kind of a long story. You see, I was with a mining expedition-” 

_Who brought you to this island, young woman? If you delay telling me, I will turn you into ashesss. Make you disssappear._ Cold green eyes stared down at her and the serpent hissed.

“Uh, sorry. Beg pardon. I. I can tell you’re talking to me, but I’m not hearing? Because I’m merely an ordinary human being? Who can’t understand snakes? And I think I must have taken a shock and do not know myself?”

The snake coiled up and snapped down to strike and Aziraphale flinched, crying out, knowing she was to be discorporated and hoping it wouldn’t be too painful. But instead, the snake picked her up with a gentle mouth, and slithered off into the dense tangle of trees.

Of course, that didn’t keep Aziraphale from fainting.


	2. A Not-So-Mysterious Serpent

Aziraphale regained consciousness in the depths of a cavern lit by fire. As she slowly came to, she felt rough stone beneath her body, her palms. Her first thought was that she must be a prisoner of Hell. Her second thought was that Asmodeus had ruined her figs, and those had been the best of the ones she picked, the ones she had been roasting.

A bad demon, Aziraphale thought to herself, and then she remembered that all demons were supposed to be bad. She shifted, about to get up, but then heard the voice of the serpent.

_Bow, foolisssh mortal_, the serpent said, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure what to do other than stay prone as she was, arms outstretched. 

“Well, if I may-”

_Who brought you?_

“Really, is that the only thing you can say?” Aziraphale lifted her chin to look at the serpent, it’s golden scales glittering in the darkness. “Because they’ll be looking for me, you know. If I’m in Hell, there is literally going to be hell to pay.”

_Who brought you here?_

“It was just an accident-”

_Who brought you to His island, with water on all sssidesss?_

“Okay look. It’s that I was going to the mining region in the south on a mission. And there were some big strong sailors, very wise and brave but you know, even strong sailors can’t do much about eight cubit waves and snapped masts. The boat sank and everyone went down with it, and I’m the only survivor who was washed up on this island. All right? Is that good enough of a story?”

_Look, the god has let you live and brought you to this island of the ssspirit. There is nothing that is not on it and it is full of good thingsss. You will ssspend month upon month-_

“Listen here you...you serpent! I can’t stay month upon month doing...doing goodness knows what with a serpent who’s carried me off!” Aziraphale sprang to her feet, her hands on her hips, facing the massive serpent, barely remembering not to shake her finger at a Prince of Hell. “If you let me go, I won’t say a thing. I won’t even report it, not even to a higher authority. Or a lower one. In fact I’ll even pay any ransom that you want. What do you want? Incense? Myrrh? Gold?”

_Incenssse and myrrh and gold are all mine; I am the ruler of Punt._

“The ruler of what now?” Aziraphale blinked.

_Punt._

“I’m sorry, did you say-”

_Punt. Punt! You know, sssquare stool, rabbit, ripple of water, flat loaf of bread, mountain range determinative? The determinative that meansss a foreign land? That Punt._

“Oh. Oh! So sorry, I must have misheard-”

_ Sssilence! No amount of incenssse or myrrh or gold will buy your freedom. For months and monthsss you shall be my-_

Indignant, Aziraphale found herself raising her voice, forgetting herself. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I can’t stay down here for very long at all. And certainly not as your...your captive. Obviously I’m a human and you can’t keep human captives in Hell. This is going against all the rules and regulations! I will file written complaints on your conduct to both Beelzebub and Gabriel. Even if you’re a Prince of Hell, that doesn’t give you the right to carry me off! I’ll...I’ll take it up all the way to God if I have to, Asmode- oh shit!” Aziraphale gasped, covering her mouth.

_What wasss that?_ The serpent’s head tilted and if a serpent could blink, it certainly would have. 

“I got carried away and said, ‘oh tax assessment’ and definitely not the other word. And obviously you’re just a snake, a very big snake. Probably someone that the locals think is a god? Definitely not a Prince of Hell, no absolutely not, I have no idea what that could possibly mean because I am just a normal human who was shipwrecked…?” Aziraphale winced. 

_Fear not._ And the serpent gave a shake and a wiggle, and seemed to be shrinking, growing darker in color, until its gold scales faded to black and its black scales became difficult to see in the shadows. Then the figure of a handsome demon in a sleek tight black linen dress stepped forward, eyes lined heavily with kohl, her heavy collar of serpentinite, ebony, and carnelian beads gleaming in the torchlight. “Fear not, for you have reached me.” 

“Crawley!”

As Azirahpale slipped her ring back on, Crawley paced around her. “I was about to say that you will spend month upon month _ as my guest until four months from now when the next ship passes by this island_. I wasn’t going to keep you or any other living being here forever. Besides, this isn’t even Hell, this is just an overgrown hole in the ground. What do you think Hell looks like anyway?”

“Oh thank Heaven it’s you!” Aziraphale’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears as she threw her arms around Crawley’s neck, catching a whiff of roses and astringent juniper in her loose dark hair. “I thought I was going to be eaten. And discorporated. And then I thought I was going to be a captive of Hell. And...and then I thought that I was going to be tortured by a Prince of Hell and- and wait what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here, what are you doing here?” Crawley asked, patting the angel’s back.

“Oh. Oh!” Aziraphale drew back, embarrassed. “Well, you see. I might have gotten myself thrown off a boat on accident. It wasn’t the humans’ fault; I just...wasn’t paying attention to some details-”

“Argh, why is it always the nipples with you?” Crawley groaned. “After all this time, you still can’t get it right?” 

“No,” Aziraphale sniffed. “I got out of practice. I was in the land of the black-headed people for years and over there no one wears kilts and collars without a top-”

“If you really want me to, I’ll miracle you up some blessed nipples. Have had some ideas on something that’ll suit you. My treat.”

“No, you don’t have to,” Aziraphale said, mortified. “I can manage.”

“Manage to get tossed off a ship, more like,” Crawley muttered. “Fine, maybe another time. Look, let’s get out of here, I probably shouldn’t have brought you down here. Nice disguise, by the way. Didn’t even know it was you until you started yelling at me about work,” Crawley offered Aziraphale her hand, and guided the angel out of the cavern.


	3. A Tropical Island Dinner Date

The two sat outside the mouth of the cavern under an overhang of stone, watching the rain. Aziraphale glanced over as Crawley tugged at the black linen dress, fussing with the tightly-fit fabric.

“You’re probably wondering what I was doing back there,” Crawley said. “Can’t say too much about the details, but I can tell you that I’m filling in for my boss.”

“Your boss? I thought Beelzebub was your boss. And not a serpent?”

Crawley chuckled. “Beelzebub is my boss in the sense that Beelzebub is everyone’s boss. Well, everyone except Satan of course. No, I report to Asmodeus. Not literally, because he hardly pays any attention to work, but that’s who gets my memos, eventually. He has this fondness for running off to Earth and doing his own thing for a while; I’m just here because he was called to Head Office unexpectedly for meetings. Probably getting his head chewed off by Beelzebub as we speak.”

“You mean literally or figuratively getting his head chewed off?”

“What do you think?” Crawley smirked. “Anyway, Asmodeus doesn’t care much to involve himself in the business of running Hell, so for the most part I get to manage my affairs on my own. He just wants the occasional memo for the sake of propriety, and I don’t even think he really reads those, just skims them to have something to talk about during management meetings.”

“You’re playing with fire, Crawley. What if he does read them carefully? Or sends them on to Compliance?”

“He won’t. That would take effort on his part.”

“And the memos, what if they get to Beelzebub?”

“Beelzebub has both hands full of the affairs of 9,999,998 other demons to deal with; the Prince of Hell isn’t going to spend much time worrying about another Prince of Hell and one demon subordinate anytime soon.”

“What if someone else reads it?”

“You worry too much, angel.”

“Maybe, but you’re the Representative on Earth; doesn’t that make you...”

“Who’s to say I’m the only one?” Crawley winked. “Anyhow, sorry about mashing your figs, you want me to make it up to you with some proper supper?”

“Crawley!” Aziraphale had almost forgotten about the figs. “Well, if you’re offering...I...I suppose I wouldn’t mind it if you made me supper. To make up for mashing my figs.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

*****

Miraculously, the rain let up though it stayed wet. Drips of cool water splashed down from deep green trees, and an angel and a demon wandered through the narrow island on the Nile. As they walked, green plants reached out to Crawley, stroking her, caressing her dark hair, gently brushing against her face, her hands, her bare arms and her bare shoulders. Aziraphale followed behind, noticing that the plants tended to shy back from the angel’s touch, wary and staying out of her way.

“Takes about an hour to walk around the whole place,” Crawley said. “It’s not so big, but it’s nice, especially once it dries out. Lovely beach down that way where you can lie down and get some sun. Lots of fruit trees.”

“It’s lovely. A veritable garden,” Aziraphale said. “As if it was created just to be enjoyed.”

“Hmm, yes, isn’t it,” Crawley muttered. “Fishing’s good in the river and hunting is even better, lots of waterfowl swim by. Already have some things prepared and ready to cook, meat and vegetables and all, so all we really need now is some fruit. I know you like fruit.”

“And I know you like fruit,” Aziraphale beamed. “Oh look, sycamore figs. These are delicious; they’re so hard to get further north.”

Crawley reached up to bend down a high branch so that Aziraphale could browse among the ripe and unripe fruits, selecting only the best. Aziraphale carefully handed the fruits to Crawley, one at a time, until the demon had an armful cradled against her chest.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Aziraphale said, lifting up the hem of her long dress so that Crawley could pile fruit onto the creamy linen, exposing the rounded curves of her strong calves. 

Crawley’s expression softened as she watched Aziraphale and it seemed that some of the tension fell from her shoulders.

“Oh, and grapes! Both red and green!” Aziraphale carefully broke off one bunch of each, and before she could place it with the other fruit, Crawley stole a red grape and ate it, just to be fussed over by Aziraphale. 

Crawley smiled.

*****

“I hope you like my cooking. I’ve been practicing,” Crawley said, as she poured water over Aziraphale’s fingers from a bowl in the usual manner.

Touched, Aziraphale did the same for Crawley, washing the demon’s hands. “It’s so nice that you’ve lit a fire and poured water for me,” Aziraphale said, drying her hands. “I’m looking forward to your supper.”

They split a roasted fish and roasted duck stuffed with garlic and leeks, eating off plain and undecorated terracotta bowls with their fingers. They didn’t have the means to be making bread out on this island, but tender lotus roots baked in the ashes and freshly roasted sycamore figs still crisply caramelized and smoky from the fire were a reasonable substitute.

“’I have been roasting since the beginning of time and I have never seen the like of this goose,’” Crawley said with amusement.

“Oh, you heard that joke too?”

“Oh yes; I think everybody in Thebes has said it anytime anything was being cooked, even for bread baking in jars. But it’s probably funnier coming from me,” Crawley winked. “Demon and all.”

“You didn’t really roast, did you…back when you, you know-”

“Well, I did roast this duck, and this fish.”

“Let me remind you that it was my idea to roast the figs.”

“And you did a splendid job,” Crawley said, popping one into her mouth. “Delicious. I’ve never had better. What’s for dessert?”

“Muskmelons! I found a ripe one, cut it in half, scooped out the seeds and filled it with grapes. Do you like it?” 

“Oh, Aziraphale, you come up with the best ideas, using fruit as a bowl...”


	4. A Difference of Rank

“You’ve been doing a lot of cooking here, haven’t you?” Aziraphale asked. “Every day that I’ve been here, it seems that you come up with something new and delicious.”

“Eh, it’s nothing. Er, uh, you know, just a hobby, something to keep me busy.”

“I liked the roasted quails you made a few days ago. Stuffed pigeons were spectacular. But the braised hare with grapes that you made today! Cooking it with hot stones in a clay pot is clever, just like the humans. Reminds me of that nabk berry dish we used to eat in Memphis. My only regret is that this was a meal that could have used some wine,” Aziraphale smiled, leaning companionably against Crawley’s shoulder, feeling Crawley fractionally relax and lean lightly against her. 

The angel took a deep, contented breath but then paused, glancing at Crawley, wondering at the scent of roses and juniper that clung to Crawley’s hair.

“Oh, there’s wine, but I wouldn’t dare,” Crawley said. “I’m a demon, but I’m not stupid; we don’t mess with anything that belongs to a prince.”

“Speaking of which, do you think he’ll be coming back anytime soon?”

“Naaah,” Crawley waved it off. “He’ll be busy for a while. Why, did you want to see him?”

“No, absolutely not!”

”Or should I put on the Asmodeus face again and chase you around?” Crawley grinned. “I could do it, you know, look like him. He’s taller and broader than me, but it’s not too hard-”

“No, no. Please, I’d rather not. Imagine if Heaven were to peek in and find me sitting next to a demon, much less the Second Prince of Hell. I don’t think my reputation could survive that intact,” Aziraphale said primly.

“Neither would mine, O Principality,” Crawley teased.

“Not that again.” Embarrassed, Aziraphale waved it off. “It’s not quite the same, you know. I might technically be a Prince of Heaven, but if we were all on equal footing, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, and the like would outrank me by choirs upon choirs.”

“Oh?” Crawley looked pleasantly surprised. “And here I thought a Principality was something like a Prince.”

“It is. But a Prince of Heaven is not like a Prince of Hell, not at all. I don’t nearly have the same level of responsibilities. Not since the reorg, you know. After...the unpleasantness.”

“Hmm, yes.” 

“I suppose if we were to line up all of Heaven and Hell in a neat row by rank, I’d stand a bit higher than you. Two ranks up at the very most, by my count. I’m not in that lofty of a position, not even middle management, really.”

“All this time I thought that they assigned you a corporeal body that’s not as sensitive to the weather because you were able to pull rank. And that whole walking on water business, among other things. But you’re not even in management! I bet they don’t even invite you to the planning meetings. You’re full of surprises, Aziraphale. And how did you hide from me? I really thought you were just an ordinary human. Well, a mouthy, disrespectful ordinary human...”

“Like this,” Aziraphale raised her right hand, touching her golden ring. “If I take it off, it’s much harder to identify me as Principality. Or even an angel, if I absolutely need to hide that. Built-in security, in case of having to hide from the Adversary.”

“Wish I could do that,” Crawley muttered, touching the tangled black mark on the right side of her face, just before her ear. “Seems useful to be able to not be who you are, even just for a little while.” 

“Can’t you look like another demon?”

“Only Asmodeus because I know him the best.”

“Right.” Aziraphale said, feeling uncomfortable. “Speak of the devil. If your boss...if Asmodeus knew we were friends. What would he do?”

“Don’t know.” Crawley said. “He’s hard to predict. He might be furious. In that case I’d be destroyed. Or he might find it amusing. In that case...I could also be destroyed. Or not. But I couldn’t trust him to keep it to himself and it’s the others I’d be more worried about. Hastur and Ligur and Dagon and the like. They’re all very much by the books. They’d follow regulations down to the last detail. Probably end up in a deep pit for an eternity, something like that.”

“And Beelzebub?”

“Tends to side with Asmodeus, if you can believe that. Well, after all the yelling. Always starts with lots of yelling. Best to get out of Hell while you still can when Beelzebub gets started tearing a strip off of him. Tearing all the strips off of him. Tearing him into strips. But Asmodeus can be quite the charmer when he wants to be. Very compelling.” 

“Huh. Well, I never. Really? Beelzebub can be charmed?” Aziraphale was skeptical, having seen the Prince of Hell on at least one other occasion. 

“Asmodeus runs around without a care, popping off to Earth whenever he feels like it to pretend to be a human king or a giant snake or doing whatever else he likes doing, and Beelzebub gets saddled with the work of running Hell. If Beelzebub really wanted to exert authority as First Prince, Asmodeus could be forced to quietly take up an office downstairs like everybody else, pushing little clay tablets around until the end of time. So I think even Beelzebub can’t always resist Asmodeus’ charms.”

“What about you?” Aziraphale gave Crawley a pointed look.

“Like I said, he doesn’t bother with me much. I see him once in a while, he asks me to fill in on his projects while he’s in meetings...” Crawley shrugged. “Erm, you know, nothing...nothing important, really.”

Aziraphale gave her a skeptical look.

“Say, let’s go down to the beach. I think it’s dried off. Could use a bit of sun on my scales,” Crawley laughed, a hollow, nervous sound. 

“All right.”


	5. A New Name

They laid in the dappled shade of a grove of palm trees, the fronds of their large frowsy heads nodding gently in the breeze, hot sun seeping through broad jagged leaves. Aziraphale watched as birds darted above, calling and quarreling with each other, noticing that none of them stayed on the island but flew off across the Nile as fast as they could, ignoring the great abundance of fruit and flowers. 

The sand was soft beneath them, and Aziraphale glanced over to see Crawley fussing with the tightly fit dress, tugging at the fabric around her hips.

“New style?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Crawley muttered.

“It’s fetching, but it seems uncomfortable. You can’t even carry fruit with it or run. Did you want me to make it more like what we all wear in Egypt?”

“Nah,” Crawley threw up her hands in exasperation, crossing her feet at the ankles. “It’s fine. It’s not like I didn’t pick this outfit. Obviously I did.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Aziraphale frowned. “You know, I’ve been wondering. When I first arrived, you already had some things ready to cook. But it was a lot more than you’d ever eat on your own, enough for two people, and you didn’t know that I would be calling on you. In fact, you didn’t even recognize me at first. And I highly doubt you’d be cooking supper for humans, maybe miracling up a bit of stale bread in a pinch, but not putting your own hand to the task. Besides, I know you don’t like cooked food as much as you like jumping in a river and just swallowing a live fish or two on your own. Except soup, and you never made that this entire time. Do you even know how to make something for yourself that you like to eat? And this place, it was created, wasn’t it? Someone very powerful made it appear from the bottom of the river. It’s not natural; I’ve been down this way before and even a year ago there wasn’t an island here. There shouldn’t be trees this big if it’s a new island. So what’s going on?”

Crawley’s breath caught, but she recovered quickly. 

“So maybe I got used to human food. Eh, you know, uh...”

“You didn’t used to eat duck or pigeons before we were friends. You said there were too many feathers and they’d get stuck in your throat. Or quail. Or any birds, for that matter.”

“So tastes change,” Crawley waved it off.

“If you don’t want to say it, you don’t have to.” Aziraphale’s voice was gentle. “But I know you’re doing this for someone else. Because you would never wear something that didn’t let you stride out. You hate wearing fabric that doesn’t move with you. You’ve been fighting that dress for days now. Someone else put it on you, didn’t they? Created it around you to fit your body tight; human sheath dresses aren’t this tight except in pictures or sculptures, and they always have seams or tiny mistakes in the weaving but this thing doesn’t. Just like that row of ebony beads through the middle of your collar. The collar you like to wear has never had ebony in it. Even your perfume isn’t yours.” 

Crawley took a deep breath, lips pursed as if to say something but nothing came out. She sighed, opening her hands in a gesture of resignation.

“My dear, if you can’t say it, you don’t have to. But know that I won’t judge you for what you are forced to do because you must be obedient to someone else’s will. Because if anyone knows something about that too, it’s me.” Aziraphale said gently. “You know we have an understanding.”

“Yeah.” Crawley’s voice was choked, barely a whisper. “I know.”

“I’ll be here for you, whenever you need me. Always.”

Crawley tensed and then nodded, the sand slithering softly around her movement. Unable to speak, she covered her face with her hands, heaving a sigh.

“Look, I can’t tell you. I just can’t. Demon stuff, you know...personal business. Things I’d rather you not know. Things you’re better off not knowing.” Crawley’s voice hitched and she cleared her throat. “But if you. If you’re willing. To listen. There’s something else I want to tell you. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.” Crawley curled up on her side, facing Aziraphale, her hand pressed beneath her cheek. “Something...kind of important.”

“Yes?”

Crawley was silent for a long time, as if struggling for the words to get out.

“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,” Aziraphale began, but then Crawley shook her head. 

“Um. I want to. I. Well, that is. Erm.” Crawley lowered her voice, whispering the words as if she were afraid of someone overhearing. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name.”

“Oh? How nice. Since when?”

“Since the Garden,” Crawley admitted. “Since Eden.”

“Why haven’t you said anything about this before?” 

“It’s not a trivial thing. We demons can’t really go about changing our names. It’s not like there’s paperwork to do a global name change or something like that.” Crawley said.

Aziraphale looked at her, intuiting something. “I recall that I was named by the Almighty. I vaguely remember another name perhaps, but I don’t know what it is. That’s not important. What is, is that Aziraphale is so very strongly me. But you...you weren’t named by Her, were you?”

“No.” Crawley said. “When I fell... When we fell like burning stars from Heaven, going up in flames. Most of us lost everything. I lost everything. Including my name. Torn away, burnt up, thrown out into deep space...I don’t know where it went.”

“Then...how did you get a new name?”

“Got named by a Prince of Hell.” Crawley shrugged as if it didn’t matter, even though it mattered a great deal. “When they were dividing up the new responsibilities. Once they named themselves, they picked different demons and claimed us. A lot of us needed naming.”

“Claimed? You mean…?”

“Well, you know. Uh, they pick us to work for them, be their subordinates. Secretaries, administrators, assistants, support staff. You know...workers.” Crawley mumbled. “Nothing serious, just a reorg. You know how that goes, you’ve been through one yourself.”

“There’s more to it, but... If you can’t or won’t say, I won’t press it. You should only tell me if you’re comfortable telling me.”

“Sometimes I feel like I got named in the same way that humans name their pets or beasts of burden,” Crawley said, changing the subject. “Carelessly.”

“What do you want to be called?”

“Only if you promise you won’t go around telling anyone else. It has to stay a secret between just you and me. I don’t want anyone going about thinking that I have free will.”

“All right, I promise. But my dear, you should be allowed to be called what you like, and what you want to be called. Just know that any name you prefer, you know I’ll prefer it too.”

Crawley was silent for so long and so still that Aziraphale glanced over, wondering if the demon had fallen asleep.

“Crowley.” Her voice was soft and low, and there was a strange quavering note to the timbre of her voice. “That’s who I am.”

Aziraphale reached out to Crowley, twining their fingers together. “Crowley. I like it. You’re right, it suits you much better.”

Crowley clutched Aziraphale’s hand tight.


	6. A Little Vacation

Clouds began to gather again, darkening the sky. Somewhere far away, the rumble of thunder muttered through the dense forest surrounding the broad river.

“I can’t stay on this island long, can I?” Aziraphale asked, giving Crowley’s hand a squeeze. 

“He won’t be back until after the human ship comes along to give you a ride out. You’ll be safe. It always takes him a while to get through his business at Head Office, and he enjoys Beelzebub’s company better than anyone else’s. For all their superficial differences, they have a lot in common.”

“If that’s the case, you know you don’t have to stay either.” 

“Don’t I?” Crowley’s mouth moved into the parody of a smile.

“Make an excuse. Say you heard rumors that the Opposition has sent their Representative on Earth to bless a god-king into a miracle-worker. But far away from here. What about somewhere near the North Sea. Or across the ocean. The Opposition always needs a good thwarting, don’t they?”

“Maybe someday. But not now. He’s not that easily fooled. He’d know. He has connections all over, and he likes to hint that he has connections higher up too. While he’s down there, he’ll know all the assignments headed my way. In fact, he’s probably diverted a bunch of them to someone else so he’ll have more time with me...” Crowley shut her mouth.

“More time with you? For what?”

“Ngk,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale gave Crowley a skeptical look.

“Well, we. He likes to...” Crowley shrugged it off. “Never mind, you know how it is, bosses like checking in for compliance and all.”

“You said that he doesn’t check in often.” 

“Erm, well. Uh. Yes and no…?” Crowley fumbled. “Not often, but he’ll stay for a long time sometimes when the not often happens, until he- No, never mind me, nothing more to say about this-”

It took her a minute or two, but as soon as she realized the implications, Aziraphale was aghast. “Isn’t that...fraternization! That’s against the rules, isn’t it?”

“We don’t have rules like that, angel. Only your lot cares about that kind of rule. My lot's rules on that are rather...not so rules-y.”

“But-”

“Just let it go, angel.” Crowley let Aziraphale’s hand go, flexing her own hand. She stood, shaking off the sand. “It’s been going on longer than you’ve known me and there’s nothing you or I can do about it. It is what it is. I’m just glad I have you here with me for now. Let’s just enjoy that while we can.”

“You know I can’t. I mean, I can’t let it go.” Aziraphale got up on her feet, brushing herself off. “You’re my friend, and I don’t like seeing you like this, doing things you don’t want to do.”

“We both have to do things we don’t want to do, angel. You’re not exempt from it either.”

“You’re right.” Aziraphale caught Crowley’s eye, and her voice became low, intense. “But you must know that I want to help you. I’ll protect you. Whenever you need me, whatever you need me to do, I promise. I’ll...I’ll fight him for you.”

Crowley looked away, staring off at the waters of the Nile, not meeting Aziraphale’s eyes. When she spoke, her voice sounded strange, distant, almost as if she was speaking to herself and not to the angel. 

“Don’t do that, angel. Promise me. It’s not worth it. You couldn’t win, not against a Prince of Hell. He’d kill you.” Crowley smiled a little to herself, a movement of her lips expressing something wistful and sad, both at once. “It’s not as bad as you think. I don’t know what you imagine is happening to me, but it’s not always things I don’t want to do. It’s rather nice sometimes, honestly. He made this island appear just for me, because he wanted to spend some time together alone. It’ll sink back into the waters once he’s done with it. He does things like this with his powers once in a while, just for me. The things you noticed are just differences in style. I would have picked a different dress but he likes this one, and it doesn’t cost me much to please him when he’s so good to me the rest of the time, letting me do as I like, supporting me in Head Office. Did you know that he’s gotten me out of trouble more than once? Serious trouble. I wouldn’t be here but for him. As for the rest...just don’t worry about it, angel. I like him just fine, really. He’s handsome and charming and I’d rather he have a claim on me than any other Prince of Hell. Anyone else and I’d be downstairs moving tablets until I rotted away inside and out.”

“All right my dear, if that’s how you feel about it, I won’t press the issue. You are your own angel, and I respect your privacy.” Hands clenched, Aziraphale fell into silence. Frustrated, all her arguments caught in her throat knowing that there was nothing that either of them could do to change the situation. Inside, she felt hot and cold all at once at the shock of knowledge but mostly she felt foolish for wanting to intervene, for thinking that she could protect Crowley from a Prince of Hell when she was no longer even a cherubim. Maybe back then, flaming sword in hand, she could have stood a fighting chance against a Prince of Hell, but her powers were so much more limited now that it was laughable to think she had any chance of protecting Crowley.

There was something inherently selfish, Aziraphale decided, about getting indignant over Crowley’s loyalty to her master. The angel reminded herself that Crowley’s safety was more important than preferences and free will. After all, there was no point to entertaining notions about free will if Crowley were to be destroyed by an angry Prince of Hell. If that was what it took to keep Asmodeus happy, then it would have to be necessary, even if every fiber of her being chafed at the knowledge. 

“Let’s talk about something else. Crowley, what would you like to do next time?”

“Next time?”

“Yes, there’s always a next time. What do you want to do together next time?”

Crowley spoke without hesitation. “Find our own desert island out on the sea. A real one, with an oasis. All sorts of animals and birds and fishes and plants and bugs... I want it to be filled with life. And there are people living there too, peaceful, pleasant people. They’d do the cooking; I’m sure there’s a good restaurant there. Maybe even two or three. Watch the kids play in the morning. Make sure no one gets polio or measles or dysentery. Go for walks in the cool part of the day, just the two of us, when it’s nice, and have long chats about whatever we like best. Climb a sycamore tree and sit in the branches to look at the sea. Sleep in the sun on soft grass and know that when I wake up...” 

Crowley looked out over the mingled waters, where the Blue and White Niles met, the dark and pale currents twining together to create the vast thread of life that streamed ever northward, tying the world they loved best together.

Crowley’s voice was soft when she spoke again. “And know that when I wake up, that you’d be there. By my side."

Aziraphale nodded, and it was a long moment before she could speak.

“I want the same thing, Crowley. Minus the sleep part; you know I don’t do that. I’ll just sit and watch you sleep, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

Crowley smiled, and leaned against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “For now, I suppose we could call this a vacation. You’re not expected anywhere are you?”

“Oh, no. Not for a while.” Aziraphale rested her head on Crowley’s shoulder. 

“Now what?”

“Well, we’re still on vacation. Let’s go for a walk, get off this island. There’s a town about a day’s walk downstream where we can get some fresh bread. You said we have about four months total, it’s been what, three or four days? Plenty of time to go for a walk and come back.”

“I’m not really the walking on water type,” Crowley said. “Let me change into a serpent and swim across to the other side, that would be easiest for me.”

“Or if you don’t mind...if you trust me to do it?” Aziraphale asked, offering Crowley her hand.

“Trust you to do what?” Crowley asked, taking Aziraphale’s hand, letting the angel lead her down to the water until the river lapped at her feet even as Aziraphale stood lightly on it. “Actually, never mind, I trust you to do anything. Almost anything.”

“All right then. Try not to wriggle about too much.” Aziraphale circled Crowley once, looking her over, firm hands moving thoughtfully as if trying to figure out the mechanics of something, estimating balance, and then in one motion she scooped Crowley up into her arms.

“Angel!” Crowley laughed, throwing her arms around Aziraphale’s neck. “How are you this strong? What are you doing?”

“Going for a walk with my friend,” Aziraphale said, settling Crowley against herself comfortably as she walked across the Nile. “And I’ve always been this strong, my dear, you’ve just never noticed.” 

In the distance, a little stream of smoke from a cookfire seeped up from the tall trees and Aziraphale paused in the middle of the water as Crowley pointed it out to her before changing direction, heading toward life.


	7. Notes

Thanks so much to Elinekeit for listening to my drafts and ideas, and to sigmastolen for listening to my thoughts. Special thanks to Elena for catching the little errors.

And thanks of course to all the readers! Thanks for all the kudos and comments and the amazing discussions, you give me life~

**Chapter 1**

The Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor comes from Ancient Egypt’s Middle Kingdom, approximately 2030 to 1650 B.C.E. More about the Middle Kindom here: https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/mking/hd_mking.htm

I followed the text of the story found here: https://mjn.host.cs.st-andrews.ac.uk/egyptian/texts/corpus/pdf/Shipwrecked.pdf If you want to read the entire text as a big block of English instead of a mix of hieroglyphs, transliterated lines, English, and Dutch, email me and I’ll send you a copy as I retyped just the English for my own reference. evilasiangenius at gmail dot com. 

Here is a nice scholarly summary of the story: https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/middle-egyptian-literature/story-of-the-shipwrecked-sailor/66BA822F650B9A3D23D01AE95A21ED20

The original language was Middle Egyptian, which is commonly studied by Egyptology students as the classical language of Ancient Egyptian literature. Any language references in this story are all Middle Egyptian.

Much of this story follows the broad strokes of the original Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor. Since the original story was framed as a story being told by “an excellent follower” to a superior, for a while I had considered framing it as a report to Gabriel. But then I thought, you know what, poor Aziraphale needs a break from his bosses too.

My original concept for this story was that Aziraphale and Crowley wouldn’t recognize each other, and Crowley in the form of a giant snake would basically be lamenting his relationship woes with Aziraphale to Aziraphale in disguise. However, original concepts often have a tricky tendency to go astray. Such is life; embrace it!

Why 1990 B.C.? The story is set in the Middle Kingdom and besides, 1990 A.D. was when Good Omens was first published.

Through most of Pharaonic Egypt, , like the iconography and the art, clothing styles did not change much. Women's clothing, such as the ubiquitous sheath dress, tended to cover their breasts, whereas men wore kilts that left their chests bared.  
https://www.jstor.org/stable/3254117?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents  
https://www.ucl.ac.uk/museums-static/digitalegypt/textil/dress.html  
https://www.historymuseum.ca/cmc/exhibitions/civil/egypt/egcl06e.html

We actually are not sure where the land of Punt is exactly. The ancient Egyptians just took it for granted that everyone knew where the land of Punt is. It’s a bit like the secret to Roman concrete; we’ve had the recipe for years but it took until fairly recently before it turns out the secret was sea water, not just regular water ( https://time.com/4846153/ancient-rome-concrete-cement-seawater/ ).

Punt was likely off the eastern coast of Africa, perhaps near modern Sudan and/or Eritrea, and could be reached by navigating the Red Sea coast since it was hard to access by the Nile where southern kingdoms such as Nubia made Punt hard to access. I had always imagined this island in the ocean, like a desert island with palm trees. However, in the original text of the story, the narrator describes passing Wawat (Nubia) and Biga (a sacred island on the First Cataract of the Nile) on the way home, so I placed this story wholly on the Nile. Of course, there are also theories that the Egyptians sailed down the Nile and then carried their boats across land partway, but we’re not striving for strict realism here so much as following the internal reality of a story, if that makes any sense.

The Blue Nile carries dark sediments and the White Nile carries pale sediments. Together, as major tributaries, they form the Nile itself near Khartoum in modern-day Sudan. https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/images/81186/two-niles-meet The real place is fairly arid today; I took some liberties with the setting, not knowing exactly what the climate was like in the region 4000 years ago.

Some of the details like waiting three days, the fire drill, and the food found on the island are taken directly from the original story.

Using the Egyptian common cubit which is 18.24 inches or 46.33 cm, waves of eight cubits height are 145.92 inches or 12.16 feet, or 370.64 cm. This measurement comes from the original text.

I remember reading a translation of this part when the serpent arrives, shaking the ground, that went something like: “The earth was shaking and the ground was quaking.” 

In the original text, the serpent measured 30 cubits, with a beard of over 2 cubits. And oddly, had “real lapis lazuli” eyebrows. Apparently Aziraphale is not the only one who fills in his brows; Asmodeus does too. ;) 

I don’t know how big Asmodeus is, but I’m going to say as much as three times the size of Crowley as a snake. He could have a beard or not, I don’t know yet. Maybe that Shakespearean era Crowley beard is in imitation of Asmodeus; I imagine the one in the text to look something like the pharaonic beard.

In the original text, the serpent asks the sailor three times (on two occasions) where the sailor came from and threatens “I will make you know yourself to be ashes, turned into something that one can’t see.” To which the sailor replies, “You speak to me but I’m not hearing. I am before you and do not know myself.” It was fun to playing around with mixing up lines from the original text and this story. 

**Chapter 2**

Aziraphale: I am literally in Hell and a demon has mashed my figs.  
I think that is what in the contemporary parlance is called, “Big Mood.”

“Who brought you to his island...” is an original line. Many of the serpent’s lines here are from the original story, taken in full or adapted.

Aziraphale’s story is a vary loosely paraphrased version of the original story.

The original sailor doesn’t offer a ransom, just tribute.

Aziraphale thought the serpent said something much ruder. I will leave that exact word to your imagination, but it does rhyme with “Punt.”

A determinative in Egyptian hieroglyphs is a sign that has no sound value and is used to indicate the meaning of a word. For example, writing a person’s name, one would add the determinative of a man or a woman at the end of the name to indicate a person.

If you want to see the actual hieroglyphs for Punt, it’s in that first link noted in the previous chapter’s notes. The descriptions of the hieroglyphs comes from Middle Egyptian by James P. Allen, which has a sign list that incorporates and expands upon the traditional Gardiner’s sign list. FYI, there are a lot of freaking birds. You have been warned.

For those of you interested in learning Egyptian hieroglyphs, check out How to Read Egyptian Hieroglyphs: A Step-by-Step Guide to Teach Yourself by Mark Collier. If you work through just the first three chapters or so and learn the funerary formula, you can fairly easily read most things in a museum (because they usually incorporate the funerary formula).

Oh shit, I almost forgot about shit. The Middle Egyptian word _št_ (where š is pronounced sh, as in ‘shipping’) could possibly be pronounced “shit”. We don’t know for sure because we have no idea what the vowel sounds are; like Semetic languages, Middle Egyptian excludes vowels in the written language (FYi, there are arguments that the Ancient Egyptian language is an Afro-Semetic language). 

I found the word _št_ in A Concise Dictionary of Middle Egyptian by Raymond O. Faulkner, and it means ‘taxpayers’ or ‘an assessment of taxes’. Should you get this dictionary? I don’t know, how’s your tolerance to a completely handwritten dictionary where you can only look up words in Middle Egyptian and not the other way around and it’s hard to figure out which of the 54 birds that any given bird sign could be because it’s handwritten? Take a deep look into your soul first or at least find the pdf online and give it a look before putting down any money.

Aziraphale eventually gets a lot better at subterfuge. At a guess Crowley gives some very needed lessons and pointers.

Four months time comes from the original text.

Juniper is associated with Asmodeus: https://tinyurl.com/yyoh56pn

I’m not sure if Aziraphale could actually be captured by a Prince of Hell but you know, there’s a lot of B.C.E. and C.E. and who knows what could happen between 1990 B.C.E. and the present...

I read somewhere that in ancient Egypt, loose hair on a woman was associated with slaves and servants, but I can’t recall where. 

**Chapter 3**

Remember that voice that’s credited as Freddy Mercury in episode 1? The one that calls Crowley ‘darling’ and beams instructions into his brain about what to do about the Antichrist? I’ve been imagining that voice as Asmodeus, Second Prince of Hell. Various demon hierarchies list him as a Prince of Hell standing below Beelzebub.

I think Asmodeus probably has other subordinates, but Crowley is his primary subordinate.

Asmodeus is often described as a demon of lust. 

We get the word “paradise” from the Persian word for a garden, so there’s some double meanings here. Paradise as a garden, and the Garden of Eden as a paradise, etc.

These are all fruits found in the story. Sycamore figs (Ficus sycomorus) are actually fertilized by a wasp. In Egypt, this wasp is extinct. 

_“The sycamore tree was related to romance, due to its manifestation in it of the goddess Hathor, the goddess of love. More specifically, it was a trysting tree; it was a place where lovers met. It doesn't only provide cool, deep shade and seclusion, but actively participated in lovers' affairs.”_ From: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/313473899_The_Sycamore_in_Ancient_Egypt_-_Textual_Iconographic_Archaeopalynological_Thoughts_Mohammed_AZZAZY_Azza_EZZAT 

Even more on the sycamore tree: https://ww.egyptindependent.com/endangered-species-egypts-tree-love/

Lighting a fire and pouring water for someone is a sign of hospitality. I borrowed this from Middle Egyptian story, The Tale of the Two Brothers (where in fact the opposite occurs).

The menu is my own; I made things up based on the available ingredients. For more on ancient Egyptian food, try: Egyptian Food and Drink by Hilary Wilson.

“I have been roasting since the beginning of time and I have never seen the like of this goose” is one of the first examples in the Mark Collier hieroglyphs book and originally comes from Meir III, pl. 23. I’m choosing to interpret it as an ancient meme/joke.

**Chapter 4**

Ancient Egyptians cooked with hot stones in a clay pot. Again, menu items are my own imagining based on available ingredients.

The nabk berries and duck dish was mentioned at the end of Mistakes Were Made: The (Babylonian) Story of the Flood.

I have an idea where some asshole throws Aziraphale’s ring in a body of water and Crowley has to fish it out. Snake it out. Haven’t worked out the details yet, I just have the image in my mind.

Some people can change their identity through what they wear, but many can’t choose to change things like skin color or ethnicity.

Jewish and Islamic tradition state that Asmodeus pretended to be King Solomon for a few years.

Crowley had gotten food together to cook for Asmodeus and herself when Asmodeus was suddenly called away. Right after that, Aziraphale lit a fire to cook some figs, which alerted Crowley to the angel’s presence. If Aziraphale’s timing wasn’t ineffably good, things would probably have been very different.

I sort of think of the angels and demons as warping and distorting reality around them, as if they’re supermassive objects that can bend spacetime around them. So as a Prince of Hell, Asmodeus can cause a lot more “warp” than either Aziraphale or Crowley could ever hope to do, and do things like make islands appear out of the bottom of a river. I chose this in part because of a detail from the original text where the serpent says “Once it happens that you have left this place, you will never see this island again, which will have become water.”

Aziraphale definitely changed Crowley’s tastes when it comes to cooked food. But Aziraphale also knows Crowley well enough to know that the demon wouldn’t cook when given the chance to just jump into the water and chase down live fish for fun and for supper. That’s probably also how Crowley caught the birds too, swimming in the river.

Costume and Fashion by James Laver points out that Ancient Egyptian dresses were unlikely to have been as tight-fit in real life as they looked like on statues or in paintings.

Coming out is hard, and identity is important. 

The way I’ve decided to reconcile this with 33 B.C. is that the chat at Golgotha happens under the watchful eyes of both Heaven and Hell, who are there to stand witness. Knowing that there are people watching, Aziraphale and Crowley engage in a pre-rehearsed conversation. Prior to their chat, Aziraphale probably spent a lot of time encouraging Crowley to come out about the name change. Golgotha would have been good timing for Crowley; that way the new name can come out in the open during a time when Heaven and Hell are too busy watching events unfold to care about a demon renaming themselves.

I imagine the reason that Asmodeus claimed Crowley was on account of Crowley’s beauty.

This line about pets and beasts of burden was originally just about pets. I thought that Crowley has a fundamental misunderstanding about humans and the importance of their pets. 

**Chapter 6**

Crowley just can’t lie to Aziraphale, at least not about anything this serious. In fact, I wonder if Crowley can even lie at all to someone who he deeply respects.

How long has it been going on between Asmodeus and Crowley? Probably since at least the Fall, I imagine.

I think a lot of us make serious compromises in our life for others because we feel like we need to please someone else and not ourselves. There’s a reason why they’re both presenting as female in this story. 

A role-reversed and much more melancholy version of this scene about “next time” can be found in Mistakes Were Made: 41 A.D.

Walking in the cool part of the day is what God does in Genesis 3:8.

Thank you so much for reading! Things have been kind of busy lately so give me a week or two before any new stories; I’ve written two chapters of a story set in Greece and want to at least have a mostly completed version before I start posting. 

Here’s the rough concept for the next story: Athens, around 423 B.C.: Beelzebub and Asmodeus come to town and Crowley is stuck taking two Princes of Hell around the Athens night life. Meanwhile, Gabriel and Michael come to town and Aziraphale is stuck taking two Archangels of Heaven around the Athens night life. Both Aziraphale and Crowley are working very hard in Greek places to avoid each other at drinking parties, leaving each other coded signs and signals, but inevitably something’s going to go wrong and they can’t avoid each other forever...


End file.
